


Lines in the sand

by WahlBuilder



Series: As The Old Gods Before Us [2]
Category: Mars: War Logs, The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Technomantic Culture, twenty headcanons in a trench coat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:17:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Yao tries to assess their new... companion.





	Lines in the sand

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Children of a Lesser God](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314571) by [Modlisznik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Modlisznik/pseuds/Modlisznik). 



> Me, chucking yet another fic of a fic at Mo: :****

“So what can you do?” They eyed the recent... They couldn’t call him “addition”. He was not a part of their unit (technically, he was an enemy), he wasn’t their prisoner, he wasn’t with them for any declared amount of time, he... He just _was_.

Yao didn’t mind ‘mancers—but this one took the top prize at being straight-up bizarre.

First of all, by completely ignoring Sean’s aura of aloofness. An absolute disregard for the chain of command, too (such as it was in their unit), and yet somehow, he did it in a way that didn’t undermine Sean’s position. He simply… sidestepped it.

Someone living in a two-dimensional world would regard a line as an impenetrable border—but for one who lived in three dimensions, it was just a matter of stepping _over_ that line.

(“I’m not a man. Not a woman. Not any other gender. I admit I spend too much time on other matters, and that part evaded me. Now, I am simply a technomancer. But ‘he’ feels better than others.”)

Secondly, though he had a flair for dramatic like all ‘mancers seemed to have, it was a unique flair (just like Sean’s). While they had traveled with his town, his “flock”, on each stop he had gone out of the sandsail to others. To reassure them, to offer a smile, a joke, a hand. Not only to the townsfolk, but to the unit, too. Even the mutants. He asked first, whether he could come close, whether he could talk with them, whether they needed his hand. Yao had expected their good captain to take offense… But that hadn’t happened.

There was something between them that Yao preferred to not define. It was only between those two (and thanks for such mercies that it remained between them).

Thirdly… He was so _easy_. Yao suspected—knew, for nothing and nobody was ever that easy—that the mismatched eyes hid depths and depths behind them—something that, perhaps, only Sean could reach. But he wasn’t like other ‘mancers. He cursed, he didn’t preach, he…

He was apart, _aside_ —in a different way than Sean was aside.

Yao tried not to think about it. They had other problems to worry about.

The Auroran looked up at them (that bodyglove that made Yao sweat just by looking at it, and a rather dusty jacket and baggy pants over it; the soles of his feet were ribbed and golden) and tilted his head to the right shoulder. “You should specify, Yao. Besides, you’ve already seen some things.”

Oh, many things. Like “talking” to their beasties.

It wasn’t just using technomancy: he literally _talked_ to them, in a very fluid ABin (Yao suspected that the choice of that particular language that they understood was deliberate), and touched them slightly, and those beasties he touched were not as worse for the wear as others at the end of the day.

“Now that the townsfolk are safely away,” they said, “we need a proper cook again. I don’t assume you—”

He smiled. He had a damn strange smile. It was like the sunrise, just before the heat hit. “I _can_ cook, Yao. The Source—the technomantic part—is completely autonomous. We live there, and, among other things, we cook for ourselves. We cook for people, too, during festivals and such occasions.”

They frowned. “Still. Food in the city is not the same as food here.”

“And what do you think we ate during all those weeks in Sundo Station? Chocolate and almond cakes? I’m not a delicate city growth, Yao.”

“Yeah, you are more of a desert fungi type.”

They almost regretted saying that, because Temperance’s face was blank, then folded in a frown (the way Malevolence’s face folded in a frown sometimes when she forgot some turn of phrase), and when they were ready to explain it, his face brightened again (they could have sworn his eyes glittered). “Ah. _Fun-guy_ , I get it. Very clever.”

They grinned (relieved). “Let’s try your cooking, then. Tonight, it will be your turn.”

“I’ll do my best, especially if,” he grinned, too, “you bring me some _fungi_.”

“Oh fuck off.” They swung a cleaning rag at him, but he ducked, chuckling.

They looked at him. He didn’t wear the circlet, but there were connectors on his temples. “Temperance? You are a technomancer, right?”

He snorted then inclined his head slightly. “You are very observant, Yao.”

“No, that’s not… You have several names, don’t you? Sean said so.”

He smiled. “I do.”

“And since you speak ABin…” They trailed off. They didn’t know what the proper protocol was, and whether…

(How would he hunt his own with them? They were enemies…)

He glanced at the horizon. Then back at them. And clicked his tongue.

They dropped the rag. “What, _really_?”

He bent and picked the rag and dusted it off. “Yes. Really.” His smile fell—fast, like the sunrise gives way to the deadly heat. “Don’t tell my brother, though, please.”

“Why? You think he wouldn’t understand?”

“He would, or if he doesn’t, he will do his best to find out. But then…” He trailed off, looking away. “I don’t want mockery. Not from him.”

The hidden depths.

They shrugged, shook the rag. “Won’t tell him. His ABin is not that good anyway, no matter how hard I try.” They rolled their eyes in a very exasperated way, and that brought a smile to Temperance’s lips. “His cooking is awful, too, he is forever banned from the kitchen. I hope yours will be better.”

“If you don’t forget about the fungi, it will be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yao is Modlisznik's OC, I only borrowed them for a little while. (Thank you!)


End file.
